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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23823121">Consorting</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/crimsonseekers/pseuds/crimsonseekers'>crimsonseekers</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Prowl Week 2020 [6]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers Generation One</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Bonding for peace, M/M</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-04-24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-04-24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 16:22:53</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,249</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23823121</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/crimsonseekers/pseuds/crimsonseekers</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>‘Creating attachments to the opposite faction to prevent another conflict,’ was what the Neutrals had called the settlement. And they <i>worked</i> for that particular clause in the agreement - the leader of each faction was to bond to the other’s second in command.</p><p>Not to conjunx. Bond.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Megatron/Prowl</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Prowl Week 2020 [6]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1699756</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>134</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Prowl Week</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Consorting</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>What better way to celebrate Prowl Week Day 6: Peace, than with good old Bonding for Peace trope?</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>If there was one place in his life Megatron had never envisioned for himself, it was to be in the position of being a bonded mech. It wasn’t that he found the idea distasteful, or had never wanted to find a bondmate, he simply… never committed any thought to the idea. He was busy leading a war, and whatnot.</p><p>A war that was very much over.</p><p>‘Creating attachments to the opposite faction to prevent another conflict,’ was what the Neutrals had called the settlement. Their presence at the negotiating table had been highly unwelcomed by either side. They certainly had nowhere near the experience required to be a significant threat to either the Decepticons or the Autobots, they were numerous enough that the command staffs of each side had begrudgingly allowed them a place at the table.</p><p>And they <em> worked </em> for that particular clause in the agreement - the leader of each faction was to bond to the other’s second in command.</p><p>Not to conjunx. Bond.</p><p>The ceremony had been a lavish affair - the Neutrals were as much romanticists as Megatron was a cynic. A double bonding ceremony, Prime and Starscream on one side, Megatron and Prowl on the other.</p><p>Megatron, while not so secretly finding it <em> hilarious </em> that Prime was going to have to deal with Starscream’s dramatic tendencies for the rest of his functioning, was not as amused by his own prospects.</p><p>The Autobot tactician had never been a character of note to Megatron - he was certainly talented, and despite his lack of direct interaction with the mech, he had been foiled by his tactics enough to be convinced of the enormous intellect of his processor - yet he seemed to have no discernable personality.</p><p>Megatron considered Prowl’s quiet stoicism as the hack job priest the Neutrals scrounged up got to point of the lengthy and boring blessings that they were to open their chest plates.</p><p>Prowl was barely two-thirds Megatron’s height. He’d needed to lean down in order to properly bond their sparks. It perhaps would have been easier if Megatron knelt, but he wasn’t about to <em> kneel </em> before an Autobot, newly bonded or no.</p><p>Megatron didn’t know what he expected bonding to be like - perhaps as romantic stories used to describe them, passionate, all-encompassing, so pleasurable as to overload one hard enough to drop into stasis.</p><p>There was, of course, the small bolt of pleasure that came from the touch to his spark, yet there was nothing passionate about the experience. Apart from what light physical pleasure the action brought him, the experience was cold and clinical. As soon as the link between their sparks had solidified, Prowl had pulled away.</p><p>Closing their chest plates, they were sent off to their quarters to ‘celebrate their bonding.’</p><p>Going by the small grimace that passed over Prowl’s lips as the Neutral Priest said that, he wasn’t terribly thrilled by the idea of ‘celebrating’ either.</p><p>But, nevertheless, they went to their quarters - apartments that had been arranged near the old Iacon Citadel for himself and his bonded.</p><p>The peace treaty, in turn for the bonding clause, had placed Megatron and Optimus as the dual heads of the new government - Optimus as Prime, and Megatron as Lord High Protector.</p><p>As such, the quarters - or rather, apartments that Megatron and Prowl were to inhabit were… large, to say the least. Megatron doubted he would have any need for the rooms other than the berth room, living room, and kitchen.</p><p>As soon as the door to their hab suite had closed behind them, Prowl turned to face Megatron and spoke the first words he had heard from the mech since the treaty had been signed.</p><p>“What will you be requiring of me as your mate?”</p><p>Megatron cycled his optics at the other mech. Well, that was certainly blunt.</p><p>Prowl huffed and turned to begin exploring the main area that the entrance led to, still talking to Megatron all the while. “I can easily draw up a schedule for spark merging to ensure that we don’t experience bond deterioration, but if you will be requiring anything else of me, it would be best to let me know in advance.”</p><p>Megatron rumbled lightly, following the Praxian further into their apartments. “What could I possibly require of you, Autobot?”</p><p>Prowl’s doorwings bobbed in a shrug as he traced a finger along the beaten couch - perhaps not quite the standard of living in Iacon in the Golden Age, but as best as they could acquire until any sort of furnishing industry began running. “Interface, cleaning, appearances at public events - whatever it is that most would expect a bonded to do.” Prowl paused for a brief moment. “However, if it’s interface you’ll be wanting out of me, I will be holding it as a basic expectation that if I say no, then you will cease any advances you attempt to make on my person.”</p><p>“Understandable,” Megatron agreed, not having had any intentions to force himself upon his new bonded anyway. “I doubt I will be asking any such thing of you any time soon.”</p><p>Prowl hummed a noncommittal noise in response, easing himself onto the couch, sagging into the cushions. “Very well,” he murmured, his optics dimming.</p><p>And that was that.</p><p>They lived in a quiet coexistence. They woke up in the morning, always several feet between their frames on their berth, and wordlessly shared morning energon. Prowl went off to his position in the enforcers, and Megatron went to the Citadel to continue arguing with ignorant neutrals. They would arrive back home at around the same time each orn, perhaps make slight small talk over evening energon, and read on opposite ends of the couch until they would head for recharge.</p><p>Neither of them were particularly social mechs, and thus outside of their respective workplaces, they spent most of their time in each other’s presence.</p><p>It was almost companionable, it was tolerable, and Megatron had few qualms with the mech he had been made to take as his bonded.</p><p>But the turning point that had made Prowl turn from tolerable to desirable in Megatron’s optics was the point at which Megatron truly realized the raw power that his bonded’s mind possessed.</p><p>“You’re letting the Neutrals walk all over you with their new tariff proposals,” Prowl suddenly said one morning, breaking the usual silence they held in the mornings.</p><p>Megatron paused, processing the unexpected statement before he responded. “Are you accusing me of being <em> weak?” </em> he growled lowly.</p><p>“No,” the Praxian said matter-of-factly, grabbing Megatron’s empty cube as he stood up, heading to the sink. “I’m calling you stupid.”</p><p>“You <em> dare-” </em></p><p>“Understand this, Megatron,” Prowl interrupted as he washed the glasses. “I wasn’t any more pleased than you were with this arrangement, but like it or not we’re bonded now. It is in my best interest to ensure you succeed, and vice versa. Consequently, it’s my duty to inform you that you are being an idiot.”</p><p>“And what would you have me do?” Megatron rumbled. “Fight a neutral? Their plating is thinner than sheet metal, I think I would kill one if I were to bump them.”</p><p>“I’m not suggesting you have me come in to arrest you for assault,” Prowl stated drily. “You’re clever with your policies, that much is obvious. You would have never been able to keep the war going as long as you did had you not a platform that your soldiers were willing to fight for. Yet your experience with trade policy leaves quite a bit to be desired.”</p><p>“And your suggestion, then?”</p><p>“I have the orn off. I will attend today’s Council session with you and do what I can to help.”</p><p>Megatron snorted. “Of course. Even if you were allowed in the Council chambers, what possible advice could you offer me?”</p><p>Prowl turned and gave him the slightest of smirks as he dried his hands. “Not only am I your conjunx, but I am also your bonded, and thus am allowed to ‘visit’ you in the Council chambers under the old Iaconian laws. For how long my ‘visit’ may last, well, there is no regulation on long I may stay.” He shrugged, setting down the mesh towel he had been using and leaned on the counter. “As for what I may offer you, I was the primary administrator in Autobot command for many years. Any trade agreements we had went through me or Ultra Magnus. I understand the minutiae in a way I doubt you are able.”</p><p>Megatron huffed skeptically. “Very well. Any problems caused will be laid upon you, however.”</p><p>“Of course.”</p><p>So Megatron allowed Prowl to accompany him to the Citadel. There wasn’t much in the way of small talk, neither being particularly fond of the practice. The attendants of the Council chamber were startled, however, when they noticed the slight black and white shadow that followed the Lord High Protector into the chambers.</p><p>“Ah, Consort Prowl, we weren’t expecting you today-”</p><p>Prowl held up a hand, stopping the attendant’s spiel. “It’s alright, this was a last-minute decision.”</p><p>“We don’t have a chair prepared for you, sir.”</p><p>Prowl hummed. “You need not worry, I’m sure I can come up with something.” He brushed the attendant off and continued walking with Megatron around the edge of the Council chamber.</p><p>“Where will you sit?” the Lord High Protector asked him amusedly as Optimus and various councilors began filtering in. “I doubt you will want to be standing the whole day.”</p><p>“I like to believe that I came with a seat.”</p><p>“Really?” Megatron asked skeptically. Prowl nodded as they arrived at Megatron’s station at the Council table.</p><p>“Take a seat, I’ll show you.”</p><p>Megatron huffed but did as told, willing to amuse the mech. His lenient mood, however, was quickly supplanted by shock as Prowl sat himself on his lap.</p><p>Had he not been struggling to process the action himself, he perhaps would have been in a better position to enjoy the shocked flare of Optimus’ optics on the other side of the Council chamber.</p><p>“Put your arm around my waist,” Prowl said shortly, already shuffling and scanning the datapads laid on the surface in front of them.</p><p>“What?” Megatron choked out after a moment. Prowl looked over his shoulder at him as if he were stupid.</p><p>“Put your arm around my waist,” he repeated slowly before turning back to the datapads. “I don’t particularly feel like sliding off your lap.”</p><p><em> :: Why are you on my lap to begin with? :: </em> Megatron hissed in a comm ping, but compliantly secured an arm around his bonded.</p><p>
  <em> :: Look at Flatfoot. We’ve already thrown him off - he’s distracted. :: </em>
</p><p>Megatron glanced in the direction of the particular Councillor Prowl had mentioned and - sure enough, Flatfoot was flustered, ruffling his plating and avoiding looking in their direction.</p><p>
  <em> :: You mean to tell me your big plan is to mess with the Neutrals prudish tendencies? Amusing, but not about to fix the drafted tariff raises. :: </em>
</p><p>
  <em> :: I’m working on that. Give me a bit, stall the Neutrals if you are able. :: </em>
</p><p>And the Council session began.</p><p>The Neutrals pushed for a thirteen percent tariff increase, Megatron and various other Councillors pushed back, and Optimus Prime attempted to mediate. All the while, Prowl began to slowly feed Megatron holes and issues with the new tariff drafts, rebuttals for counterpoints, and alternative solutions.</p><p>Megatron found that it was difficult to not admit that he found the situation <em> highly </em> enjoyable. It was nothing short of deeply amusing to watch the Neutrals stutter and stumble, not only over their policies but glancing uncomfortably at the clever Praxian seated on his lap, shuffling through their proposals and systematically <em> destroying </em> them.</p><p>Megatron smirked into the back of Prowl’s helm as he watched yet another Councillor fall apart in the middle of an argument, shifting the arm he had wrapped around his bonded to rub gently at the bottom edge of his doorwing.</p><p><em> :: You’re surpassing any expectation I had for your presence, :: </em> Megatron practically purred over their comm line, smug grin widening as the doorwing in his grasp fluttered minutely at the attention.</p><p>
  <em> :: Now tell Gearshift that unless he wants Mayalx to pull out, his suggested tariff raise on nickel is not possible - I appreciate the compliment, but I would also appreciate it if you would stop your ministrations. :: </em>
</p><p><em> :: Why? :: </em> Megatron asked as he relayed Prowl’s words out loud, though with a touch more insult to the Councillor on his part. <em> :: Ticklish? :: </em></p><p>Prowl flicked his sensory panels out of Megatron’s grip as he answered. <em> :: Ticklish in the sense that unless you are willing to bend me over this table and frag me in front of everyone here, you should stop. :: </em></p><p><em> That </em> gave Megatron pause. <em> :: Ah, :: </em> he said after a moment. <em> :: Perhaps later, then? :: </em></p><p>He barely managed to keep his engine from stuttering as Prowl suddenly <em> rolled </em> his hips back into Megatron’s, and his EM field flared <em> just </em> enough to merge with Megatron’s, the rush of arousal barely short of forcing his cooling fans to turn on automatically.</p><p>Prowl glanced at him over his shoulder, giving him a downright <em> sultry </em> smirk as he brushed his sensory panels along Megatron’s arms.</p><p><em> :: I look forward to it, :: </em> he purred over their comm link before turning back to focus back to the datapads, keeping his hips pressed firmly against Megatron’s panels.</p><p>Megatron growled lowly into his bonded’s audials, forcibly returning his attention to the debate at hand.</p><p>Yes, he looked quite forward to <em> ruining </em> the clever little tease in his lap later.</p>
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